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waddle: good morning, wordpress - 10:36 a.m. , 2009-07-03 elaborate murder attempt - 2:56 p.m. , 2009-07-01 building a tractor in the basement - 10:42 a.m. , 2009-06-19 ask no questions tell just a few lies - 3:17 p.m. , 2009-06-09 my long lasting flavor really lasts long - 1:10 p.m. , 2009-06-04
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Title: My Unbelievably Embarassing and Sitcom-Esque Moment OK. Yesterday I got my hand stuck in a vending machine. Only me, folks, only me. And I wasn't trying to steal anything. I had skipped breakfast and by 11 am was absolutely going to starve to death, so I headed down to the vending machines on the second floor for some Wheat Thins. Man, do I love Wheat Thins. The door on this particular vending machine is somewhat broken, although I didn't know it at the time. The springs or something have given out so one must push astoundingly hard, with both hands, in order to get the door open more than just a tiny bit. The tiny bit that the door does open is not large enough to reach into and get your snack. Unless you're me and have tiny little hands. I didn't even notice that the opening was smaller than usual, just reached right in. And got my hand stuck. I have kind of a big clunky watch, and the face of it was too tall to get my hand out. I couldn't even rotate my hand. Yikes. So I'm kneeling down and with my other hand trying to reach in there and get the clasp of my watch undone, thinking that if it will come off I could back my hand out. It's 11 am and way past the coffee rush hour, so there's no one around. I'm trying to be cool, but also starting to panic a little bit, because my hand is REALLY REALLY stuck. A woman walks by and doesn't notice me struggling, and I'm like "be cool, be cool, just gotta get this watch off..." but it's not working. After 5 more minutes or so nothing's still happening and some guy walks by, so I give in the my own essential dorkitude and say, "um, help? I'm stuck?" To his credit, he didn't laugh or anything. In fact, he took my plight very seriously, like a Rescue 911 situation or something, going, "Oh my god" and dropping down beside me to help with the extraction. I was finally able to get the watch undone, rotate my bruised and red hand, and pull it out. I made him go back in the vending machine to get my watch and my snack. No way was I sticking my hand in there again. What a geek I am. Do you think I could write this harrowing tale up for like Readers' Digest or something? Or maybe a Dateline "Survivor's Story"? --mimi smartypants back/forward |
